


perfect love analogy (that's how i'd describe you)

by signal



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Idol/Fan AU, M/M, Slow Burn, well not really idol like half idol half artist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signal/pseuds/signal
Summary: [enter-talk] OH..?? JYP FILMING NEW REALITY SHOW??Posted: 1:04 AMWhen JYP Superstar “Young K” is among the few of 'Nation to get signed up for an on-the-go reality show, Wonpil (student, long-time fan of Young K) doesn’t expect his seminar class to be picked as one of the three to be involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> * rating may go up!!!! who can say in this harsh world!!! nothing is concrete!!! 
> 
> * here's hoping i keep updating.... i've fallen headfirst into other things i'm writing but this one isn't dead yet
> 
> * there’s such a lack of youngfeel on ao3 and it truly breaks my heart..... watch when it’s all i write lmao

** [enter-talk] OH..?? JYP FILMING NEW REALITY SHOW?? **

Posted: 1:04 AM

 

Feel free to ignore my ramblings because it’s late… I think I’m right though??ㅋㅋ

but I heard from a close friend JYP is making a reality show with a bunch of their artists??

 

[evidence1.jpg]

 

for me I’d love to see 15&, Young K and JJ Project take part…

 

[+127] [-59]

 

 

1\. [+30] [-27] We get it you need more attention

  
2\. [+46] [-7] What’s with the top comment?ㅋㅋ How do you know she’s lying? Why is everyone on PANN so cynical

  
3\. [+25] [-2] JYP said during a news conference a few months ago they wanted to have a reality show but a survival was pushed instead… maybe its this??

  
4\. [+40] [-3] Young K daebak!!ㅠ

 

✎

 

He fell in love with Kang Younghyun two years back, on the 23rd of January 2015 in the middle of Hapjeong.

He was busking, not particularly well known then, no Young K moniker, no established JYP signing, no two separate managers tailing him everywhere he went. He was wearing big, thick rimmed hipster glasses, and a brown scarf wrapped loose despite the cold. He was absolutely ideal.

Wonpil was heading to the subway after visiting a high school friend for dinner, and he knew the quickest way to get to Line 2 there was through the Mecenapolis exit. There was a centre stage, surrounded by an array of flowers and a somewhat pretty mix of marble and stone flooring. It used to be a set of fountains, but they were switched off the year before, leaving the space vacant and kind of sad.

Wonpil usually passed, whenever he did, (which, to be fair, was rare) with an unbothered mind. Except the moment he passed the Pet Store, he heard the trailing of an emotive voice from around the corner. Intrigued, and for once not stopped by halting to look at the puppies like he always did, he walked up quickly to see if what he assumed was happening.

It, of course, was. _He_ was, rather. There he sat, on a small stool you’d recognise fansite’s would use to get the perfect angle of their favourite celebrity, a guitar case open at his feet. There was a small crowd, nothing to be shocked at when it came to every day busking, but something compelled Wonpil to move forward until he was at the front of the loose circle.

His voice was so compelling. So beautiful. So strong, so vibrant, it felt like every note he sung inched towards Wonpil and wrapped its way around his heart, each breath or pause enough to hear it thud.

He was singing an English song, one Wonpil didn’t recognise, which was embarrassing because his global knowledge of songs was only one of the only chips he had to brag when it came to Jae.

Wonpil stood, transfixed, and every time the busker’s eyes met his when he connected with the crowd, he felt his skin grow hot.

The moment the song ended, there was a chorus of clapping, and Wonpil scrambled to join in. A few people moved forward to the guitar case to drop in a few silver coins, but the majority of them moved on, too busy to stay. Wonpil wanted to stay, desperately so, but the fact was he had a midterm in the next few days, and staying out for drinks with friends took away precious revision time.

He rumbled around his coat pockets, moving the headphone wire out of the way to pull out a couple 500 won coins, regretting the fact he had next to no change, before forcing himself to move forward.

The closer he got, to the people surrounding him and quietly complimenting him, the more he grew nervous. _Oh no,_ he thought, _he’s hot._

His smile was so bright Wonpil was sure he would get blinded. His guitar was by his side now, eagerly responding to people approaching him, and Wonpil’s steps faltered. Maybe he’d think he’s weird? Maybe he’d take the money with an awkward attempt of a smile, a single “thanks…” that trailed off while he waited for Wonpil to high tail it away from him.

Well, thinking about all the bad stuff was all well and good, but the busker was now looking at him with those same ridiculously pretty eyes, which meant he had to walk forward.

“Um,” he started, lamely, “I, uh, really enjoyed that song.”

“You did?” Hapjeong’s finest answered back with practically twinkling eyes.

“Yeah! I—“ he caught himself then, answering way too excitedly back, and resorted to fiddling with his fingers, “I only caught the last two minutes or so but like. You sounded amazing.”

If Wonpil thought that smile couldn’t widen anymore, he was sorely mistaken.

“Seriously? Thank you so much! It means a lot to me to get such nice feedback.” The interesting thing about this guy was how genuinely kind he seemed. It must be tough to busk often, and he didn’t seem like a newbie. “It’s Dontcha, by the Internet. I recommend it!” He added, smiling wider, if that was possibly.

“Thank you so much,” Wonpil’s eyes crinkled, making a mental note to check that out as soon as he got home. “Yeah, I got uh…” Wonpil trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence but brandishing some money to get the gist across. He leaned over, avoiding eye contact before dropping the few silver coins into the case.

“Oh man,” the singer said in surprised English, before carrying on in Korean, “thank you so much! Seriously. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“Are you going to be busking again anytime soon?” Wonpil asked before he could stop himself. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he drew his coat around him a bit more in an attempt to not seem like he was now obsessed.

The surprise remained, but in a pleasant way, “You’d come again?”

“Of course! I really like music. And your voice,” the last bit was mumbled, and _God_ he hoped his coat collar covered his red cheeks.

“Hmm…” he said, pulling out his phone.

_He sounded busy. God. No. This is it. Getting blown off because he was too weird. You’ve done it now, Wonpil. Time to pick your funeral plot._

“Oh yeah!” Wonpil’s New Muse suddenly responded, standing up and showing him his phone with an indulgent grin. On the screen was his calendar, dates highlighted in different colours. “Not next week but the week after I was planning on heading to Hongdae. Friday night if you’re around?”

“Definitely!” Wonpil said, definitely sounding eager and definitely not caring, “like, the playground? Or the promenade?”

“Unsure as of yet… guess you’ll have to wait and see, huh?” The busker grinned, adjusting his glasses, and breaking eye contact to place his guitar back into his case.

Wonpil, heart thudding obnoxiously loudly, used the excuse of his train coming soon and practically ran away, almost missing the “bye!” called out after him as he trotted down the stairs into the subway.

Now, he managed to see him again, going down at the safe time at 8, and stayed for an hour on the outskirts of the crowd. He came to Hongdae often, so he knew the best places to hang out (read: loiter) and listen to the nice floating of songs all around him. It wasn’t until half 8, did he recognize the voice, through a microphone this time around.

The circle of people was larger now, and he felt more comfortable hang around to listen to dulcet tones in the cold air. A couple of times the crowd would part, and the singer’s eyes would travel to make eye contact with various people in the crowd, but all Wonpil could do was either avert his gaze or duck his head into his coat collar. It wasn’t until he announced he was going to do one of his original songs, that their eyes finally met. The singer’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled directly at him, looking like he was going to wave but aborting the motion last moment. Wonpil offered back a shy smile, and resisted the urge to run.

“This song is called ‘I Wish,’ and it’s one of my favourites. I don’t really sing it often enough even though it’s new, especially on nights like this,” he started, gesturing around to the distant sounds coming from the playground of what everyone assumed was a group of drunk people singing terribly loudly, but terribly well, “but I kinda want to test out some new material. Would you guys be okay with that?”

He asked the second bit wryly, totally anticipating the positive response he gets, and goes into the song after a few flicks of his fingers against the guitar strings.

His voice truly was like dripping honey. The substance too, slow and migrating, covering your senses with a soft fervour. A few lyrics stuck out, engraving themselves into Wonpil’s ribcage.

_(I wish I were happier_

_Every single day my wish is the same_

_Nobody can_

_No one can shake me—)_

The moment he finishes the song, the last line leaving his lips softly into the microphone, it feels like Wonpil’s heart is being clenched by the man himself. His overflow of feelings are interrupted by the buzz of applause, and he finds himself smiling despite himself.

 

✎

 

As the months went on, through the adjustment of high school into university life, his strangely buzzing social life and extra curriculars to push his CV and get on the good side of his lecturers, he doesn’t get the chance to see the other boy anymore. He thought about it from time to time, day dreaming somewhere between Song Production and World Music History, and tried to find him again but gave up after each failed, or aborted attempt.

He expected that to be the end of it, the end of his trite little love story, except—

“Come mention to me at the end of class if you didn’t sign the filming clause in your induction papers, class.”

That raised a bit of suspicion, and Wonpil leaned forward to try and catch Jae’s gaze from across the lecture theatre, but he was staring straight at the teacher who had spoken with a furrowed brow.

“What do you think he means by that?” Sungjin mumbled next to him, fingers tapping against his closed notepad.

Wonpil grimaced, thoughts racing and all tripping over the same hurdle: the massive spot on his forehead barely covered by his fringe that’s feels big enough to be captured by filming crews, “I hope it’s not literally what I think is—”

“Surprise!”

The doors open, and a mass number of cameramen walk in, and Wonpil sinks into his seat. The auditorium isn’t big, but at that moment he’s glad it holds three classes worth of students for the group lecture, and he’s in one of the middle rows. Out of sight, out of mind, he supposed.

A man Wonpil vaguely recognizes from reruns of Knowing Brothers on his TV every night walked in, rubbing his hands together vaguely evilly. “Everyone, you must be surprised right?”

There were a million and once gasps, and Wonpil heard the girl next to him murmur a harried “what to do...” under her breath and she covered her mouth. Initially, he thought it was because of the supposed MC, which was weird to him because… well… if she liked ajusshis, that’s her taste he supposed, but—

A chorus of screams and cheers erupted all around him, and he visibly startled at the noise. “What the—”

The doors were open, people were walking in, and he didn’t swear much but _fuck_ this can’t be happening.

“I present to you,” came the man’s overpowering voice, like a rally leader, “JYP Nation!”

Oh God.

Unless his eyes were deceiving him, that was definitely Young K, JJ Project, Nakjoon, Baek Ayeon, (sorry, _is that Young K?)_ walking into the lecture hall. Only then did Jae stretch over the desk like a languid cat, smiling as if he’d found the utmost pot of gold (read: teasing material) this semester, directly at Wonpil.

Wonpil sunk further into his seat.

 

✎

 

“No _way_.”

“ _’No way'?_ — Dowoon, we saw it with our own eyes!”

Wonpil was incredulous, smacking his friend’s bag, and the other turned around to him with a scowl. Wonpil mimicked it, grinning after a moment, “Seriously though, they were right there, wait til Sungjin hyung comes to lunch and he’ll tell you.”

They were in the middle of a CVS, hesitating over the warm-up food section when Wonpil told him of the survival show surprise. Thinking back on it now, he still can’t believe it was real… seeing his favourite singer (and real-life crush) approximately three rows ahead and five people to the left was alarming, at best. He’d been wanting to throw up ever since the encounter, honestly,

It resulted in Wonpil running out of the lecture hall as fast as possible instead of loitering like a few were for autographs, saying a quick “see you at lunch” to Sungjin and katalking Jae a “sorry hyung!!! ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚, and instead waiting outside of Dowoon’s lecture with an anxious shuffle of feet every few seconds.

Dowoon wasn’t particularly alarmed to see his hyung waiting, because on the way, Wonpil had sent him a harried text to look for him by the wall adjacent to the door, but he did squint at him when the older linked together their arms and lead him down the hallway with nothing but “I’m in hell,” to say.

“Well you have a reason to go to classes now, I guess.”

“That’s the thing!” Wonpil groaned, genuinely considering buying and necking a bottle of soju, “The heads of year said something along the lines of if we take part in this program, it overwrites all electives and all but one of our core modules, so it’s like… complete pass.”

“Hyung. You have to do it.”

“Hey!” Dowoon’s comment resulting in another hit, he continued, “I’m dying here! Speak rationally later!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Dowoon grumbled, before giving up and taking some cheese kimbap off the ready-to-eat shelves, to the till and paying for it. Wonpil relented and picked up some crisps, not feeling particularly hungry. They paid quickly, one trailing after the taller other in a morose fashion until Dowoon let out a huff. He stopped still, letting Wonpil stumble into him before linking arms with him once more. “It’ll be fine, hyung.”

“I’m going to die, actually,” He bounced back, feeling grateful when their on-campus eating spot came into view. They wandered in, and Wonpil let the earthy greens and browns in the decor wash over him in a sort of relaxing vibe as Dowoon let them to their table. A few of their friends were already there, with pity in their eyes.

“I’m dead. It was nice knowing you everyone. Here I’m laid to rest.” Wonpil said, sliding into the booth with Sungjin on his side and Jimin across from him before slumping into the table.

“Are you buying anything, oppa?” Jimin asked, short hair curled nicely into a bob today. She directed her question at Dowoon, but flicked the crown of Wonpil’s hair (the most easily accessible) to indicate she meant him too. He whined, it turning into something that resembled, “Bought… some… cri… sps...”

“The answer is…” Dowoon in turn unzipped his back in response and dropped the kimbap on the table with a fairly resounding thud, “no.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Jimin made a face at his dumb joke, “anyways you guys get to work with Baek Ayeon? I’m so ridiculously jealous!”

_Oh God. Here we go. We have to acknowledge this is a thing that is happening and I cannot run away from._

“Oh right, there’s Baek Ayeon… Nakjoon…” He heard somewhere hovering to his side, as Sungjin started with a wide grin looking down at his dongsaeng who was slowly losing the will to live.

Jae let out a chuckle, high pitched too so you could tell he was truly enjoying himself as he continued, “JJ Project… and who’s the last one?”

“Please don’t do this to me right now, hyungs.” Wonpil made a defeated noise, his forehead sort of aching through his will to sink into the table, and then the floor. “I like him so much. This is the worst.”

Jae made a realising one in response, slamming the table lightly with his fist, “Oh speaking of— hey, you remember you might have a fan sign to go to in two weeks?”

 

✎

 

 ( “Can you relax for like a hot second, maybe?”

“Hyung. Please. Don’t talk to me. Until I click submit.”

“Like... we have a deadline. Or, okay— _you_ have a deadline.”

Wonpil looked up then, a nondescript chocolate bar shoved between his lips (because he couldn’t afford on-brand) and glared with fury. “Hyung,” came the muffled threat.

Jae, on the other side of the room on a desk chair; the back of it stretched dangerously far as he leaned back, put his hands up in a mock surrender, choosing to stay silent.

Wonpil went back to his laptop screen, cross legged and leaning in, “Okay,” he mumbled through the biscuit-y crumbs, “and… done!”

“You in then?”

“If the 40 copies of his mini don’t put me in there at least twice I’m going to be… strongly annoyed,” Wonpil said, glancing absently at the one of the A4-sized free posters that came with the bulk order. The nice ajumma that ran the store took one look at the pile of plastic and discs on her counter and had ended up giving him 7 pre-order bonuses out of pity, “but I think the list comes out Thursday?”

“Got some time to kill then… like this essay?” Jae prompted, fluttering his fingers like a magician at their Song-writing Module Information pack, the booklet that was stapled together poorly on Wonpil’s desk and levelling him with a dry look.

“I’m almost done!” Wonpil whined back, side eyeing the mostly blank Google document with distain as he put down the chocolate.

“Seems very fake, but okay,” Jae said, laughing when Wonpil, in a flash, opened his mouth to complain again, “I’m done, either ways. Want some help?”

“…Yeah, thanks hyung,” he replied, grinning despite himself and shuffling off the bed to spend an hour or two bullshitting a paper on European Songwriters of the 1970s. )

 

✎

 

“Oh God. Oh no.” Wonpil’s head found his hands, and Dowoon barked out a laugh, and gave him a heavy smack between his shoulder blades. He barely reacted, resolving himself to his fate.

Young K was going to take one look at him and call him a ‘sta-loser.’ A stalker-loser hybrid. He’ll say it into the microphone and all Wonpil will just hear his endless number of fans behind him laughing in pure spite. It’s written in the stars. In ancient Roman texts. Hieroglyphs.

“… Hieroglyphs!” He stressed, his head shooting up and his eyes meeting with odd looks around the table.

“What are you talking about?” Jae asked from across the table, eyebrows furrowed behind his circle framed glasses, chin snug in his palm as he truly enjoyed this.

“This… is not going to be good.”

“Hey, what’s the worst that can happen?” Jimin offered with her eyes filled with pity.

 

✎

 

**JJ Project, Baek A Yeon, Young K and Nakjoon attend ‘JYP Song Festival’ reality show conference**

Monday, XXXX, 2017  

[ ](http://s58.photobucket.com/user/milsyv/media/wrow_zpsrf6bzcxc.png.html)

[ ](http://s58.photobucket.com/user/milsyv/media/wrow2_zpsgo61tsdg.png.html)

****  
Article: JYP Lyrical Masterminds take the stage “Please view us well… Support the people involved”  
  
**Source:** TV Report via Naver

 

1\. [+1,020, -43] Daebak, this line up…

  
2\. [+649, -35] They’re supposed to be collaborating with general lyricists to create songs to perform at a festival type thing?? So fun

  
   
3\. [+423. -20] The best thing about this is they all write their own lyrics so this should be refreshingㅋ

  
   
4\. [+186, -20] Honestly though isn’t Baek A Yeon so pretty… hul  
 

  
5\. [+106, -53] I wonder how this will turn out… I’m excited! Fighting!

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * i would've littered the texts with like emojis but like. ao3 hates emojis now it seems? ? ??? ?
> 
> * also image sizing is so weird on ao3.... pls excuse the images being a liiiil blurry
> 
> * i have more of an idea of how i want this to go so i'll edit the 1st chapter to retcon or at least hint at youtuber!wonpil lmao 
> 
> * hope u pick up my struggle to pick 93/94/95 liners when i decide whomstve was in wonpil's group
> 
> * pls lmk how u feel in the comments...

 [](http://s58.photobucket.com/user/milsyv/media/weird%20wonpil%20profile%202_zpsmk3dcn2l.jpg.html)

 

 

 [](http://s58.photobucket.com/user/milsyv/media/wonpil%20tweets%202_zps77ufslgo.jpg.html)

 

@kwp0102: i am not lasting the rest of this semester. wheel me out for garbage day 

↳ @jyptownyg2003 eng subz?

↳ @ukeleledreamz pls upload a cover soon oppa!!!!!!!!

↳ @drummerboy95: hyung stop overreacting and get 2 class :D

@kwp0102: @drummerboy95 i am…… (hiding outside the door i can’t go in orz)

 

A soft jab to the side knocked him out of both his back and forth with Dowoon on Twitter and hesitating over responding to his subscribers, and he grumbled, rubbing his side and looking up to meet his assailant. Jae stood there, grinning widely before slinging an arm around Wonpil’s shoulders. “What’s up, string bean?”

Wonpil glowered up at him, momentarily forgetting his stress as he brought his free hand up to squeeze the other’s wrist, “That really doesn’t work against someone smaller than you, hyung.”

Jae scrunched his nose up at his joke being turned against him and, after a brief pause; instead of replying brought the younger boy in so he could mess up his hair with one swift movement.

“Ah, _hyung_! No please, I did wrong!” The younger cried out, causing the people walking into the seminar to give them weirded out looks through the corner of their eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jae said, eyes wide and expression mocking as he let his dongsaeng live, “why aren’t you inside yet? You need to grab that middle front row spot before Suji or Yerin steal your mans.”

Swatting his hand away quickly, he didn’t answer, but instead looked back at the lecture door. Honestly? He was nervous. He couldn’t run from this like he’d run from the familiarity of busking, and it wasn’t even that he was nervous to meet him! There was something about this situation that really put him off, but he couldn’t place it.

“Okay, real talk? We gotta go in and sign in for attendance, soooo…” The taller boy said, before pushing him in.

Now, if this were a videogame, the amount of stamina Jae held within him was around the 20% marker of what it could be— his final form, right? But Wonpil had a couple of debilitating effects at that point like +10 to anxiety and -7 to rational thought, meaning Jae won the test of strength contest in a heartbeat.

“Hyu~ung!” Wonpil complained loudly, practically a whine really, as he was moved into the room. Jae laughed from behind him, muffled a bit as he escorted them to their seats. Funnily enough, Yerin was there already, and Wonpil resigned to sliding into the seat next to her, placing his bag by his feet and glaring at the desk. Jae shuffled in, effectively caging him in with the widest grin on his face.

“Hey, oppas,” Yerin said, smiling at them before going back to flicking through her notebook, “isn’t this so exciting?”

Yerin was in the first-year class, Jimin’s dorm roommate, but her song composition and education on theory was so complex and at a high level that most of her classes were advanced. Wonpil remembers times she held study sessions for some of his exams, and honestly, she was a lifesaver.

Wonpil, not feeling like crushing her happiness over his general stresses, allowed himself to smile a bit. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“That’s the first time he’s expressed anything other than fear at this whole thing, Yerin-ah,” Jae offered, cackling when Wonpil leant over to jab him in the side. “Cherish that.”

“Oh, leave him alone! This is stressful for him,” Yerin teased, fixing Wonpil’s fringe affectionately as he rested his head in his arms.

Wonpil made a noise of agreement, directing a smug grin at the bewildered Jae. If there was one thing Wonpil was could at, it was definitely “cute” his way out of everything.

They waited awhile for class to begin, talking amongst themselves and feeling more comfortable as more of their course mates came to sit near them or at least waved before grabbing a seat for themselves. Sungjin entered the hall later on and made sure to flash a well meaning but overtly awkward thumbs up, kind of like the one a dad at his kid’s football game would offer, but Wonpil received it all the same as the other man grabbed an open seat a few rows up.

The thing was, Wonpil wasn’t sure there was any one of his friends that _didn’t_ know how much he liked Young K. Musically, he raved about him almost every other day. The moment his music video drops when he’s still in class (and it’s happened from time to time, in the 6pm late lectures on Thursdays, when a notification came through for a teaser or two) he practically shoves his phone in whatever friend is closest’s face. The number of excited looks, or even empathetic ones, he got as they slowly work their way in was laughable, honestly.

There was, however, less people than he expected. There was always the possibility they didn’t agree to this whole filming thing and switched to different lesson times, but that made him nervous because that increased the chance of being filmed on this thing. Of being in His group. _I really need to stop thinking about him like he’s God._

Before he could think about it anymore, the lecturer came into the room, escorted by what looked like one of the producers with a small crew of cameramen, and Wonpil pressed his lips together, steeling himself for this nonsense.

 

✎

 

This ended up taking over an hour as they worked through the semantics and the explanation of how the reality show would progress and the “festival” it would result in. They dropped some rules: if you were doing specific modules, depending on where your course was headed, you couldn’t take part because of both scheduling issues or lack of permission to film in certain building. 31 people get reduced down to 24, and the nervousness crashes against him like a wave when he feels people around him get up and leave the hall disappointedly. _Less people. Oh God._

A clap snapped him out of his reverie, and Wonpil’s eyes shot up to see the main producer with his hands together, “Okay, shooting resumes in 5 minutes! Places, people.”

“Ahhhhh,” Wonpil dragged, making a defeated noise, ready to slump against the desk again as his heart uncomfortably thudded against his chest, “… maybe I should go?”

Jae’s hand wrapped around Wonpil’s wrist and tightened. Briefly, Wonpil appreciated the curve of Jae’s fingers. Even though he played three variations of the same instrument that every player was known to have skinny fingers through, his fingers were small, so by default they looked kind of chubby. Jae spent his life flicking between bass and electric guitar, but his fingers looked unmarred; long and thin with purpose. (He was _definitely_ jealous.)

“You’re not going anywhere. If you want to beef up your CV for the winter break, you need to pass this year. This is like the head straight to Go and collect your 200,000 won card in Monopoly. You’re sorted, dude,” Jae said, not looking at him but his voice had softened with his head bent towards his nervous dongsaeng, so Wonpil knew he was talking him, “Stay. I know you’re uncomfortable, but I bet it won’t even be that bad. Or— okay, or hold out for the first month. If it _truly…_ really… properly… is not for you, I’ll help you catch up with your classes and draft an extenuating circumstances letter.”

Wonpil, touched, couldn’t help himself; grin gracing his lips, “What would the ECs be for, hyung?”

“Why, being a lovesick fool, of course,” Jae replied wryly, letting go of the other’s wrist; matching the grin and messing up his hair.

“One minute ‘til shooting!”

By the time Wonpil had opened his front camera and sorted out his dark hair and straightened his shirt— the nice dark blue one with white lining around the collar, of course, his eternal crush was coming to his school, it wasn’t a hoodie and jeans kind of day— filming was just about to begin.

Oh god.

It began with the MC explaining the premise of the show to them again. Work with a JYP artist for a few months until the end of the semester, and during that time create one or two songs from scratch, and they’ll be performed live in festival type conditions and voted on by the end of it by the students. It seemed reasonable, and they would even throw in a few apprenticeships/job internships in for the hardest working students.

Sounded great, fit into Wonpil’s future plans snugly, except— well, every notion of that was destroyed the moment Young K walked in through the door.

He was beautiful.

This was fact and Wonpil, as a pre-debut fan, was truly struggling not to turn around and scream it to the people behind him somehow. His pretty eyes hadn’t changed over the past few years, brown smudged in the creases to create a smoky look; hair a sharp dark brown styled to show off his forehead. He wore skinny ripped jeans in a light washed denim blue, coupled with a black turtleneck that showed the line of his broad shoulders well. He waved to the crowd, Wonpil’s eyes falling from his hands to his forearms, because of _course_ the sleeves were rolled up. Yeah, Wonpil was definitely whipped.

The noise grew as all of the acts walked in. _As expected_ , he thought, _all idols and artists are good looking._ Managing to rip his eyes away from Young K, he appraised the rest of them. In complimenting white shirts and blue formal trousers, JJ Project walked in together, and they were definitely pushing the innocent youth concept from their last mini album. Baek Ayeon was in a floral dress that flattered her already pretty self, and Nakjoon had one something that fit his latest concept too, white hoodie underneath a blazer.

“Why don’t you introduce yourselves to them?”

The gag was, they’d already done this the other day, but it was out of respect for the cameras now rolling they had to repeat it.

“Shall I start?” Nakjoon asked, stepping forward with a shy sort of smile, “Nice to meet you everyone. My name is Nakjoon, and I’m part of the Studio J branch like most of the others here. Please treat me well!”

The others introduced themselves somewhat similarly, Baek A Yeon smiling shyly, and JJ Project editing theirs slightly by noting they were under the main label; smiling at the marginally louder screams. Then—

“Hello everyone, do you know who I am?”

The cheers were ridiculous. There he was, just-turned 24 year old Kang Younghyun, with the absolute widest smile on his face. All Wonpil could do was try and relax; understand that this was a thing that was happening. As long as every God up there was listening, on his life he would end up working as far away from him as possible.

“I’m glad! It’s nice to meet you guys,” his smile broke into a grin once the noise died down, looking around the hall and trying to dish out as much eye contact fanservice as possible. _That asshole. Rest._ Wonpil turned his head, hoping he’d just pass over him, and listened for when he continued to speak, “For those that don’t, my name is Young K. Please look after me,” he finished, bowing.

Through that movement, Wonpil noticed the glint in his ear, and saw the dangly earring that was his trademark, “Alright, we’re going straight into it! In the sea of students, each from different classes and schools of learning, before you, you have a mix of explicit song writers, musicians, theorists, the lot. Pick…” The MC did a quick count up, “six people you want in your team.”

This clearly shocked the artists, as they looked amongst themselves.

“Oh God,” Wonpil muttered for what seemed like the fifth time today. Nobody could tell him he wasn’t consistent. Yerin rubbed his back sympathetically, which made him feel worse.

“One each until we hit six?” Jaebum, part of the JJ Project duo offered quietly, seemingly alarmed by this switch up. (Wonpil could tell by the mildly constipated look on his face.)

They agreed, and went down the line in the order of Nakjoon, Baek A Yeon, JJ Project and Young K. The choosing went quick, too, but for Wonpil it felt like hours.

Jae got chosen by Nakjoon, and after a little while, Hyelim and Sungjin both got picked by JJ Project. Yerin was one of the last to get chosen by Baek A Yeon. Young K passed over all of Wonpil’s friends in the choice of others. Near the end when almost everyone else had gotten chosen, it was Young K’s turn and if Wonpil didn’t suck in his breath sharply... His eyes scanned over the rows, making a quiet, absent humming noise that got picked up by the microphone.

One blink, two.

“I choose…” He started, and Wonpil couldn’t look away. Even though he adamantly didn’t want it, he couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if he did get picked. If he WAS on his team. (Absolutely showing him every single piano version of his songs.) The fact of the matter was, Wonpil was scared. He wouldn’t admit it, couldn’t, not to any of his friends or even to himself, but that was really the reason why he was overreacting so much. Having such a quick, burning admiration for some absolute stranger, doing something he could never imagine like performing to a live audience, or playing professionally. It was definitely a wonder how he managed to post convers, but he rationalised that as if the people watching him were behind a computer screen, it was like they weren’t there at all. Some foolish way to get over his perpetual stage fright. Honestly, in the few conversations they had those years ago, Wonpil had really gleaned that he felt the same way Wonpil did about music. And that was just… nice. He was nice.

Sure, it would be nice to spend time with his idol and all, and writing a song with someone who’s lyrics inspired him endlessly would be fantastic but— no. No. Surely not—?

His eyes refocused after his thoughts ran away from him like water, to see Young K staring straight at him.

Wonpil couldn’t look away, heart uncomfortable in his throat, as the other boy stared at him; squinting ever so slightly like he was confused. His ears fuzzed, feeling like the entire world grew quiet apart from a dull static as they starred at each other. His eyebrows were furrowed, and distinctly in the back of Wonpil’s mind, his subconscious was standing on a metaphorical mountain and screaming at its summit, “CUTE!!!!!!!”

Jae’s gaze darted from Wonpil’s object of affections to the boy himself a few times, before saying, “Dude.”

 _Dude is right._ He didn’t respond.

“You.”

Young K’s voice was stable now, smiling again, though it kind of seemed a little perplexed. Wonpil, the master of all things communication, simple resorted to pointing at himself with his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah,” Young K said, with a laugh, letting his amused smile grow before hiding it with the side of his hand and continuing to look at Wonpil. _He made Young K laugh_. Wonpil froze, remembering to put his inquisitive finger down and nodded, eyes wide even though he was trying to act nonchalant. His phone lit up, and he tore his eyes away from his new mentor to read his messages. The Katalk group chat had a sudden abundance of message, all from Sungjin, and he sighed at the contents.

 

**bear hyung [11:42]:** WONPIL!

**bear hyung [11:42]:** HAD A MOMENT!!

**bear hyung [11:43]:** WITH YOUNG K!!!

**min [11:44]:**!!!!1!!!!!1 is this the beginning of your love story oppa???

**jaehyung2 [11:44]:** I was there, I witnessed it happen

**jaehyung2 [11:44]:** Everyone is invited to the wedding but I’m the best man. Obviously

**bestest dowoonie [11:46]** that’s my hyung lolz

**bestest dowoonie []:** that’s fake hyung!!!! I’m the best man

**kevin hyung [11:46]:** I’m the vicar lol! :D

 

As the filming continued with the MC explaining something to the camera, Wonpil knocked Jae’s elbow off so he almost smashed his face into the table (but gracefully recovered) before saying through gritted teeth, “Stop this.”

“Hey dude, tell them not me,” Jae said, rubbing his elbow and looking at the younger man mutinously.

He had a point. He did just as much.

 

**You [11:48]** : stop this!!!!!!!!

 

He paused.

 

** You [11:48]: ** (*๓´╰╯`๓)

 

This set them off again and he bit down on his smile by pursing his lips, before putting his phone face down on the table again. There were only a few more people to get chosen, and then they were ushered into separate rooms with their respective groups and a couple cameramen. As he prepared to make his way out of the room by getting his shit together with the others, he was congratulated (read: embarrassed) by various people.

“Successful fan! Congrats oppa!”

“Get him to sign one of your hundred albums, why don’t you.”

“Oh, Piri-ya, I’m so excited for you,”

One of them was Sungjin as their group prepared left next. “Hey! Did you see how he _looked_ at you? Can ya believe this?” He said excitedly, a tinge of dialect leaving his mouth as he hovered near Wonpil.

“Hyung…” He groaned, feeling his face heat up against his will, “I think I have to be in an enclosed space with him. I really can’t be dealing with this.”

“Well, yeah, ‘course you do. For the rest of this semester too,” Sungjin said, completely missing Wonpil’s nuanced pain, frowning.

He let out a sigh and then patted him on the chest; turning him by the shoulders to prompt him to go follow the rest of his group who were leaving the room, “go and be great, hyung.”

“Oh, damn,” He headed off, turning back briefly to wave at him and Jae who was on the other side of the hall, before catching up to his group. Hyelim waited by the door for him with a fond smile on her face, and they headed out together.

Slowly but surely all of his friends left, and he moved to too along with his group, led by a producer down a few corridors into a part of the building he didn’t often visit. The people in his group were a mix of nervousness and excitement, a few filling the silence with quiet conversation about this situation and the man of the hour himself, Kang Younghyun.

“I really like his latest album. His voice is just… so strong, I’m really jealous…” A girl said, arms wrapped around herself.

Another taller boy chimed in, walking behind Wonpil, so all he heard was a low voice with the slightest dialect beneath it somewhere, “Me too,” he said, somewhat bashfully, “I don’t really sing, but I like his lyrics.”

Wonpil himself didn’t really know these people, maybe one or two wishes of luck regarding exams were passed between them, but they had never been outright awful to him, so maybe this would be tolerable. All he had to do was get through this semester. Then he’d be free from this hell.

They were ushered into the room, and sat down, carrying on the quiet conversation. Wonpil smiled a few times, but felt he, or they, weren’t ready for him to unleash his whole fan aesthetic on them.

“Hello?”

_Oh dear._

Young K was taller than he remembered. Not particularly, overtly tall like Jae, or taller than you would expect, like Dowoon, but a weird kind of tall. Kind of like… you see this person, and they seem so reserved and malleable, closed in on themselves, but on stage they transform into another being. Someone with power.

He still had his sleeves up, as he peered around the corner; pretty eyes peering owlishly into the room. Wonpil did the only thing any sane person would do and stood up immediately to bow and greet him in one fluid movement. This spurred the others into action, so hopefully it looked like he wasn’t too much of a freak. As Young K walked into the room, he greeted them too with a smile directed at them all, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“I feel so awkward sitting here,” he laughed quietly, legs crossing over one another and resting his hands on the top of his knees, “I hope I don’t come across too pretentious… please let me know if I’m too much.”

Wonpil bit his lip, as the others rushed to say things along the lines of “not at all”, “please take care of us” and the like. What could he say? _But, seriously, what?_ He thought, _I don’t want to embarrass myself… I wonder if I can get past this semester if I say a giant sentient octopus stole my voice?_

Sudden images of Young K as Prince Eric, and Wonpil in a pink satin stitched suit dancing by the beach made him physically choke on his water.

“You okay?” The object of his thoughts directed at him, facing him immediately with his eyebrows drawn in. Wonpil latently recognized that as worry.

“Um. Yes.” He said, stiffly, going to sip again and then stopping before the bottle touched his lips and looking at him directly, “… Sorry.”

The others around him giggled without spite, and his cheeks grew hot when he noticed Young K was too. _Okay. We’re definitely staying under the radar, KWP._

“Then, I’d like to start by saying thanks— thanks so much for joining me. If you have any issues throughout the term, come to me directly and we can see what we can do, because I know this is such a big thing to just find out about in an important semester and if you’d rather opt out, that’s fine too! Your education comes first, but this would be such a big boost for those looking for careers in the entertainment ormusic industry, I think.”

His voice was low, and slightly raspy. Maybe from overuse? His eyes were bright regardless, not betraying anything, and his warm smile was sort of infectious.

“I kind of want to have a group chat sort of thing… I mean, it doesn’t have to be? If you guys don’t want to? Or can’t?” He said, and then immediately backtracked, eyes going wide, “It can be emails! I just wanna make sure we can stay and contact for what we do, you know?”

Wonpil and the rest of the others glanced at each other, smiles playing on their lives, some going as far to laugh again. A girl spoke up, pretty, with hair dyed a nice light brown and a cute smile, “No, that’s fine! I think it’s fine with all of us, right guys?”

Wonpil was pretty sure she was close with Yerin, had maybe seen her in a picture with those two together whilst scrolling through Instagram, but he couldn’t be sure. The rest of them chimed in, and they all wrote down their names and numbers on a piece of paper and the last person passed it back to Young K along the table.

“Okay so we have… Nayeon, Jisoo… Minho, Seungwan, Jooheon and… Wonpil? Can you wave or point to yourself or something when I say your name again, maybe tell me if you specialise in anything?” The celebrity looked embarrassed, “I’ll keep it locked in my brain forever, trust me.”

“Nayeon?” The girl who spoke earlier rose her hand.

“I’m _really_ good at bass, and kind of good at song writing!”

“Jisoo?” The girl next to her with a choppy dark fringe rose her hand, though more shy about the matter.

“I specialise in theory…”

“Minho?” The boy next to him, with a glinting dangly earring in the shape of a cross shifted to point at himself.

“Lyric writing.”

“Seungwan?” The girl who had spoken out in the hallway also pointed to herself. He didn’t know her either, but he was sure she was friends with a few of his own friends, because she was the same age as him.

“Um. Saxophone, which, I know sounds weird, but I can do piano and guitar too! Just… you know… diversity.”

“Jooheon?” The other boy apart from Wonpil rose his hand, then used it to brush floppy dark hair out of his face.

“Songwriting too, yeah.”

“And Wonpil?”

He gulped.

In an effort to not fidget, he left one hand in his lap and raised the other, managing to match eyes with the other boy. _Good job, Wonpil-ah_ , “I’m very good at lyric writing, synth, piano and keyboard… kind of good at various kinds of guitar.”

Young K peered at him again, instead of nodding and smiling like he’d done with the others, but halting with the kind of look you used when you were sure you’d seen someone before, “… Now, this is going to sound extremely weird but… Wonpil-ssi, have we met before at all?”

 _Oh_.

**Author's Note:**

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